


Here For You.

by shawnslittlepeach



Category: Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bad Boy Shawn, Badboy!Shawn, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 05:55:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18424263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shawnslittlepeach/pseuds/shawnslittlepeach





	Here For You.

For all of his faults, you loved Shawn. You hated that you did, and you wanted more than anything to be able to wipe away anything you felt for him but it was impossible. He would forever have a piece of you. And no matter how bad he fucked up, you were always going to be there to bail him out. You couldn’t help it. You were a fixer, and Shawn was a constant work in progress. **  
**

You didn’t even want to come to the party, you were more than comfortable at home enjoying some much-needed relaxation time, but you when your phone started blowing up with text from Shawn that made no sense your plans changed. You already knew where he was, the same party everyone you knew was at so you grabbed your car keys and made your way the few miles to the house that was way too loud, and far too crowded.

You could hear his voice booming over the crowd before you saw him. He was in someones face yelling about something you didn’t care the understand while Brian held him back.

This. This is why you came.

To save him from doing something stupid, to calm your own nerves because if you hadn’t come all you’d be doing is sitting at home, worrying about him. Scared something may happen.  

You marched your way to the little scuffle, weaving through drunken bodies until you reached him. Brian looked over Shawn’s shoulder at you eyes wide causing him to turn around, his glassy eyes meeting yours.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He spits, still riled up from whatever fight he’d gotten himself into.

You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out. Seeing him like this, you’d forgotten what it was that dragged you off your couch and into your car. You never knew what it was that made you do the things you did when it came to him.

“I um - you called me. And texted.” You stuttered, trying to stand firm but faltering.

His eyes soften a bit, the angry ‘I don’t need you’ facade cracking. He regretted the voicemail he made whilst hidden in the bathroom the moment he hung up. And every text after he sent it, but didn’t think you’d respond, let alone show up. He didn’t think you cared anymore.

“Just because I called doesn’t mean you have to come here.” He pushes past you, into the kitchen and you quickly follow him, finding he’s making himself another drink in his red plastic cup. The last thing he needed was more liquor, and the last thing you needed was to watch him destroy himself further.

“Hey, what do you say we get out of here.” You say softly, reaching for his cup, but he yanks his arm back violently, a scowl on his face.

“I’m fine here, thanks.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Would you just back the fuck off?”

He lifts the cup to his lips and in a burst of confidence and anger, you yank it from his grasp.

“Okay, I think you have had enough.” you holding the drink over the sink, threatening to pour it down the drain. You were willing to put up with a lot of his shit, but the last thing you were going to allow was to be spoken to that way.

“Give me the drink.”

“No. We’re done, alright. Come on let’s go.”

“Stop doing that!”

You take a deep breath, setting the drink down on the counter, walking closer to him. You raising your voice at him is only making things worse so you change your approach. You bring yourself closer to him, running your hands up and down his arms, looking up at him with soft eyes.  

“Bub, you’ve had enough okay. Now let’s go.”

The nickname was meant to be comforting, to calm him down, if even for just a moment but all it did was make him angrier. Angrier because it hurt. One minute you wanted nothing to do with him and the next you’re using pet names, his head was spinning and it wasn’t the liquor.

“Don’t call me that! And stop telling me what to do.”

“I’m trying to help you!” you snap, all appearances of calm washed away. Your sudden change in attitude throws him off guard for a moment, but he bounces back quickly, delivering the same amount of venom you had.

“Why? Huh? What do you get out of interfering in me having a good time.”

“Because I am your friend and that’s what friends do. They stop each other when they - ”

“Oh is that it. That’s what we are now.” He scoffs, pulling away from you.

And the truths finally coming out. This is about you. For him it’s always about you, every fight he’s gotten into, every stupid thing he’s ever done he claims it’s for you. To in some fucked up way protect you, or keep you close. Because if he was being honest with himself he’s terrified. He’s terrified of losing you over his image, over his mistakes and he wasn’t wrong. You ended things because it was all just too much. You wanted it to be amicable, to stay in touch, and you thought it was for a while. But not for Shawn. For him it was absolute hell, having to pretend like he no longer had feelings for you. He was so frustrated, all he wanted to do was win you back, and so in the most counterproductive way, he does exactly what it is that keeps you away. 

But he never takes it out on you, ever. You’ve never seen Shawn like this, so….nasty. It wasn’t anything like him (with you at least), and as much as you wanted to let the tears prickling at your eyes spill, you didn’t.

You see him pull a pair of keys from his pocket, as he turns away from you and your blood runs cold. You reach out, yanking his arm forcing him to turn around.

“I know you’re going through a lot of shit right now, and a lot of it is my fault okay. I get that, but you’re being stupid. You’re going to get yourself hurt or someone else, and I’m not going to watch you do it!”

“I’m not your responsibility.”

“Maybe not, but if something happens to you and I could have stopped it, I would never be able to live with that.”

He sees the tears welling up in your eyes, and he sobers up. The last thing he ever wants is to hurt you, and yet he knows that deep down he’d been doing everything in his power to get a rise out of you the last few weeks. He just wanted to get your attention. But now that he’s got it in all the wrong ways he feels nothing but shame.

“Now please. Let me take you home.”

“Alright.” he agrees, and without any fight, he follows behind you outside the party into your car.

The ride to his apartment was silent. Both of you too scared to say something that would upset the other. He so badly wanted to reach across, take your hand in his and plant kisses to the back of your hand but he couldn’t. He wasn’t allowed that anymore. He certainly lost the right, and after tonight he fears he’ll never get it back.

“It’s not your fault.” He slurs, in the silence, looking over at you.  

“What?”

“Me, ‘going through a lot’ or whatever. It’s not your fault.”

“You make it pretty clear that it is.” You say harsher than intended.

“Well it’s not,” he whispers softly, “you’re right about me though. I’m fucked up.”

You look over at him, and he’s looking down at his hands, twisting the ring on his finger.

“Bub, I never said that.” You see him flinch at the nickname and instantly regret it.

“I know you um…you called me ‘self-destructive’” he chuckles bitterly, “and you’re right. I’m going to try and fix it though. I want to fix it.” For you. He thinks.

When you finally pull up to his place, you put the car and park and sit in front of his building for a while, neither of you saying a word until you finally decide to break the silence.

“I know this whole thing is….” you trail off not being able to find the words, “just know that If you need anything, ever, I’ll be here Shawn.”

The words break his heart because he knows what that means. Hears the true weight behind them. It means that he can have you in every way other than the way he wants. He’ll never have you, truly have you the way he once had and as much as that hurts him, he has to live with that.

 He gives you a sad smile and a nod, “I know.”


End file.
